


The One With Not A Thanksgiving

by unbrokengibberish



Series: i'll be there for you [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Friends AU, M/M, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Thanksgiving, slow burn series sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbrokengibberish/pseuds/unbrokengibberish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian really hates Thanksgiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With Not A Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another installment in Friends AU, because it's Thanksgiving. It's kind of short and also unedited, because I wanted to get it out while it was still Thanksgiving. Enjoy!

Ian Gallagher hated Thanksgiving. Something about watching your mom almost bleed out didn’t really get him in the holiday mood. He hadn’t celebrated a Thanksgiving since that year and he really didn’t want to. It was a stupid holiday anyway. He could eat like a pig whenever he wanted. He really didn’t need to celebrate the genocide of millions of Indians while doing it. 

But the thing was that now he was living with Mandy, and her and Mickey had started their own traditional Thanksgiving-esque celebration when they had finally gotten out of their house. He didn’t want to be a downer on their happiness, but just the smell of the turkey wafting underneath his closed bedroom door was making him see red. Not like he was pissed or anything, they didn’t know that he didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. But all he could see was the blood shooting out from Monica’s wrists and all he could think about was how close he’d come to becoming her over the last few years. 

He was jolted from his thoughts by a crude banging on his door. “Yo, Gallagher. The fuck are you doing in there?” Mickey eloquently barked at him. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he grumbled as he rolled over, shoving his face into his pillow. He was pretty sure that Mickey Milkovich could get him to actually enjoy Thanksgiving and he was so gone on the man that he kind of hated himself. 

“What’s that, mumbles?” Mickey muttered through the door and Ian could see the self-satisfied grin on his face at his use of yet another nickname. The amount of nicknames the man had for him was getting utterly ridiculous. 

Ian rolled off the bed, took a deep breath, and then opened the door to see Mickey standing there in an apron. He couldn’t help himself and he doubled over laughing. 

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Mickey groaned as Ian laughed at him. “Mandy makes me wear the thing. Now come help out or else you don’t get any.” With that he turned around and stalked over to the kitchen. Ian would be lying if he said he didn’t watch the way the older man’s ass swayed as he walked. 

“Uh,” Ian said gracefully as he made his way around the couch and into the kitchen area where Mandy and Svetlana were attempting to make potatoes. 

“But my dad always make the potatoes with the peas and onions,” Svetlana stated firmly. 

“Is that the same dad who sold you to a pimp for 200 dollars?” Mickey asked as he stirred something that Ian had to admit smelled pretty good. 

“It was 300 dollars and he was damn good cook so shut up short man,” she huffed at him in annoyance. 

“Well, our mom always made the potatoes extra lumpy. Mostly cause she was high and couldn’t cook for shit, but that’s how we like them,” Mandy said as she started peeling the boiled potatoes. 

Ian smile fell at the mention of the Milkovich matriarch as he thought about Monica and that Thanksgiving. He didn’t notice that he was starting to feel faint until Mickey drew his attention. 

“Gallagher? Yo, Gallagher? Ian, Jesus, are you okay?” Mickey was now standing directly in front of him. Ian’s eyes focused on the stunning blue ones in front of him and he saw Mickey’s hand twitch as if he wanted to touch him. 

“Yeah,” Ian swallowed thickly trying to clear the huskiness out of his voice. “I’m good.” 

“You sure?” 

“I like tater tots,” he blurted out like a complete idiot. The three other members of the kitchen gave him a weird look, but Svetlana and Mandy went back to preparing their own mashed potatoes. Svetlana was pouring potato flakes into a bowl and mixing frozen peas and onions in it and Mandy was attempting to use a potato masher on the actual potatoes. 

Mickey was just staring at him and Ian thought he saw concern on his face. “I think we have some in the freezer. You can never have too many potatoes right?” 

Ian nodded a little stiffly as he sat on one of the dining room chairs trying to regain his control. Mickey handed him a glass of water and he smiled gratefully up at the older man before Mickey went back to deal with whatever was cooking on the stove. 

Ian lasted about twenty minutes in the kitchen before the smell of the turkey hit him full on and he felt a wave of nausea rush over him. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was throwing up his stomach contents into the toilet. 

“Jesus, Gallagher. You sick or something?” Mickey asked as he rubbed at Ian’s shoulder trying to sooth him. 

“No,” Ian groaned as he took the glass of water that Mickey offered him and swished it around his mouth before spitting it into the toilet. He flushed and leaned back against the wall. 

“You sure?” Mickey asked crouching down to Ian’s level. Ian looked up at him under his eyelashes. Mickey looked freaked out and Ian really didn’t understand why. Why would Mickey care if he were sick? 

“I’m sure,” Ian muttered resting his head against his bent knees. 

“Well, obviously something is wrong.” 

“I just don’t like Thanksgiving.” 

“What?” 

“Monica tried to kill herself one year on Thanksgiving and I haven’t been able to deal with it since. I’m sorry,” Ian mumbled into his knees. 

“Jesus Christ, Ian. Why didn’t you say something?” 

“’Cause you guys were going through so much trouble and you shouldn’t have to change your plans for me. I know that it’s like a tradition or something for you guys. And I know your childhood was just as crappy if not way worse than mine, and I didn’t wanna ruin it for you guys.” 

“That’s dumb,” Mickey said as he sat next to Ian who looked at him in disbelief. “Like that’s nice of you and all but really the only tradition that we have is not to beat each other up like our father did to us every year. We could’ve just ordered Chinese or something man.” 

“But you look like you’re enjoying yourself and it’s nice to see you happy,” Ian said leaning his head to the side so he could look at Mickey more directly. “Plus that aprons pretty adorable.” He smirked a little as Mickey wrinkled his nose. 

“Fuck you, I’m not adorable,” he said, but he was grinning at Ian now. “You think you can eat? We can make other stuff. I think we got stuff for grilled cheese or something, man.” 

“I really do like tater tots,” Ian said smiling at the other man. “I can make my own grilled cheese.” 

Mickey stood up and held out a hand to pull Ian up. They both tried to ignore the spark that shot up both their arms at the small touch. 

“The turkey’s probably gonna be another hour or so, so if you wanna go hang out in your room that’s fine. Or if the smell’s really bugging you, you can go over to my apartment.” 

“No, I think I’ll be fine. I just wanna watch you cook some more,” Ian said winking as he walked out of the bathroom. 

/// 

An hour later, the four of them were sitting around the kitchen table, the turkey on one side of the table and Ian on the other. They had set it up so that the smell didn’t go Ian’s direction too much. He had a grilled cheese, salad, and tater tots, and if he really ignored it, he could pretend that it was just another meal. 

Mandy raised her beer bottle in a gesture to toast. “Here’s to some kickass friends,” she said as they all clicked their bottles together. 

“And good food,” Svetlana said.

“And to warm apartments,” Ian said. 

“And to Not Thanksgiving,” Mickey said smiling at Ian, who smiled back. He was one hundred percent lost on that man, but he’d have to deal with that at another time. For now, he was going to enjoy his makeshift Thanksgiving for the first time in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> mckeysgallagher.tumblr.com


End file.
